Follow Through
by rightersblock
Summary: My idea of how a relationship might go between Booth and Brennan. Starts after Boneless Bride in the River. BB
1. In Which Booth Visits a Therapist

Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, because then maybe the bank wouldn't be so mad at me...

Author's Note: Okay, so I know what you're thinking. I have another story that I need to finish before I start a new one. And you're absolutely right, I do need to finish White Noise, and I will. But I've had this idea rolling around in my head for a while, and then tonight, something very exciting happened. I saw (are you ready for this?) an episode of Bones. Okay, so that might not sound like big news, but it actually is, because it was the first full episode that I've seen from season two--well, I missed like the first ten minutes, but I totally watched after that. Anyway, I'd seen a few bits and pieces of other episodes, but never enough to feel confident writing it. Ever notice that I've never had Cam in a story? Yeah, that's why. So, anyway, I looked up quotes from Season Two, being the dilligent author that I am, and so now I'm really just guessing. Good chance I got the character voices wrong (its been so long that I've seen an episode that I was starting to forget what Booth and Bones sounded like). Anyway...I'm rambling. I have no idea how long this story will be. It's pretty much just going to be a relationship story between BB. Sort of how I think it might go. I don't know what I'm doing with the other characters yet, so I'll let you know. Ookay...sooo...hmm, yeah, there's a good chance this could get deleted if no one likes it, but if I do that I'll probably just try to rewrite. Anyway...I'll shut up now. After Boneless Bride in the River. The title had absolutely no relavance to the story...maybe I'll try to work it in later. Anyway...enjoy!

* * *

Seeley Booth was a sniper trained FBI agent. He was the father of little boy whom he absolutely adored. He was able to balance both his professional obligations and his personal, with little conflict in between. He had even previously dated a pathologist with whom he worked, and he had been able to keep that relationship from interfering with his work life. He worked hard, never allowed himself to settle for anything less than the best he could do, and, as a result, he was widely regarded as being a good agent, solid, with an honest desire to find the truth. Seeley Booth was good at his job.

And right now, he was pissed.

It wasn't because of the case he had been working on, or at least, not directly. Sure, the case had been long, entrenching him for a solid month, not including the work of the officers who dealt with it before he did, or the work of the law enforcement afterwards. And yes, it had been emotionally draining. The case had involved a young woman who had been found buried in a basement, and from this initial discovery came a gruesome chain of evidence suggesting that she had been bound, beaten, and eventually killed by her own brother. The case had been horrifying. But that was not why Seeley Booth was pissed.

He was pissed because, throughout the course of the case, he had fought almost constantly with his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute. This was unusual for him. Though he and Bones, as he called her, had always exchanged playful, and sometimes aggressive, banter with one another, Booth could never remember it reaching this level. Usually the banter was a way of passing the time, a manner of getting the edge off, a means for bouncing off ideas. It was a natural part of their process.

This time was different.

This time the once playful exchanges had been tinged with something else, something deeper. How had that happened? This was the question that ran like a tickertape through Booth's mind. And the more he thought about it, the more he found that he came back to the same culprit.

Sully.

The FBI agent who had filled in for Booth after the damn ice cream guy refused to turn off his music. The guy who had asked out Booth's partner. The guy who then somehow figured a way to make Bones fall for him. And, the guy who had then left.

But he did more than just leave.

Sully had asked Bones to go with him. When Bones came to Booth, he had told her that she should go. She'd gotten mad when he suggested it. Then, when Booth commented that Sully was a good guy, she'd gotten even more pissed. In the end, Bones had stayed behind and Booth had been there to comfort her, but Sully had changed everything. After Sully left, Bones wasn't herself anymore. And that threw everything off between them. They started snapping at each other. They irritated one another. Booth, for his part, believed that he tried to make things right. But it seemed that no matter what one of them said, the other took it the wrong way. By the time this last case had ended, Booth found that he was looking forward to getting the break from her.

That had never happened before.

The other squints had noticed it, too. Angela made comments on the side, which just made Booth more pissed. Hodgins gave him those damn raised eyebrow looks. Zach…well, Zach was more or less oblivious, but that pissed Booth off, too. Cam just shot him a little smirk every time Bones made some sharp comment. The first time she did it he felt some camaraderie with her. Then she had made a comment in Bones' defense. Camaraderie over.

And, on top of all that, Booth was still seeing Gordon Gordon, the FBI psychologist. Like he had time for that. Like he had nothing else to do with his day.

It wasn't that he didn't like Dr. Wyatt. Actually, Booth liked him a lot. But now wasn't a good time to force Seeley Booth to talk. And after Dr. Wyatt prodded, Booth finally let loose with a torrent of information, detailing exactly why and how pissed his was.

Ten minutes into his tirade, Gordon Gordon cut him off.

"Have you ever taken the time to ponder exactly why it is that your relationship is so volatile with this woman?"

"No I haven't taken the time to wonder why it's 'volley-tile'," Booth answered, doing his best to impersonate Gordon Gordon's accent. "She's just that kind of person."

"And what kind of person is that?"

"The kind that…I don't know. I mean, she was talking to me about her boyfriend, and I told her that I thought he was a good guy, and she got mad over that! I mean, what is that I'm supposed to do with that, huh? And maybe we should take the time to consider that this is _her_ issue, okay? _Hers._ Not mine."

Dr. Wyatt nodded slowly, processing. "Yes, that is entirely possible, isn't it?"

"Right, so Bones, she just…you know, she needs to work through that."

"Brilliant conclusion."

Booth smiled. "Thanks, Doc."

"Yes." Gordon Gordon continued to nod slightly, still looking slightly off, as though he were thinking. "Of course, the fact that it is having such an impact on you shows that you have some involvement in the matter."

Booth looked at him. "What?"

Dr. Wyatt shrugged. "Well, it's obvious that this woman's defensiveness affected you. Why do you do you think that might be?"

"Uh, because I have to work with her? Because I'm stuck with her for long periods of time? I mean, c'mon, Doc, you're a smart guy, figure it out. She's irritating!"

"Quite." He nodded again and gave a conspiratorial smile. "You know, my sister was an irritating woman. Nasty girl, always taking my things, getting me in trouble. Once she spilled tea in the living room and told my parents that I did it." He shook his head, chuckling. "Yes. And she was quite disagreeable as well. But do you know what? Despite her faults, I found that I still loved her." He shrugged. "Though I supposed that is genetic."

Booth gave the doctor a confused look. "Uh…what?"

"The point is, Agent Booth, although we often find people in lives that are irritating, we more often find that the people who irritate us are the people we want to care about us. After all, if we didn't, would they irritate us as much as they do?"

"Listen, Doc, I'm not try to break down your, uh, your 'breakthrough' here, but Bones irritates me because I'm stuck with her. Okay? Not because I'm looking for her, her, approval or something."

"Certainly," Dr. Wyatt replied. "Terribly sorry to make such an assumption. It just seems to me that from what you've told me about this…this…'Bones' she hasn't had the easiest of times. Is it at all possible that you're in fact not irritated by her, but instead by the fact that you're unable to help her? Or perhaps that she is unwilling to allow your help?"

Booth offered no reply to this.

"As I have said before, Agent Booth, you're a man who very much desires control. Perhaps your problems with this woman stem from the fact that your relationship with her is out of your control?"

Booth sat quietly. "Alright," he said finally. "So what if that is the case. What should I do about that?"

"Oh, I can't answer that, Agent Booth. Though I will say that were I in your position, I might consider giving this 'Bones' a bit of understanding."

"That hasn't been working, Doc."

Dr. Wyatt smiled. "Ah, yes, but you see, Agent, human beings are fantastically complicated. Perhaps if you give it some time?"

"Well, like how? I mean, what am I supposed to do?"

Gordon Gordon smiled again. "I'm sure you'll think of something, Agent, but for now we're out of time." He stood from his chair and headed for his house. As he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder and said to Booth, "oh, but do be sure to tell me how it goes, won't you?"

Before Booth could reply, Gordon Gordon was inside.

Booth sat for a moment, still mulling over the doctor's words, still feeling a little annoyed. However, even though he was irritated, he knew that Dr. Wyatt had hit on the truth. He was irritated that Sully had messed so many things up. He didn't like the idea that he couldn't just fix it. And, yeah, he knew that she had had a rough childhood with her parents and brother and all, and that she hadn't had the best luck with boyfriends, but he hadn't really thought of Sully that way. After all, Sully had wanted her to go with him. And Bones had been the one to refuse. Didn't that make it different?

Booth stood up with a sigh, making his way to his SUV. He knew he was attracted to Bones. Hell, he had never really tried to deny it. Even when Sully had asked, he'd never actually lied. He did want her to care about him. And he believed that she did. He even thought that they would get together, or at least he had until Sully had come into the picture.

"Okay," he said out loud as he started the SUV and pulled out of the driveway, onto the road. "We'll play it your way, doc. I'll be nice. I'll give this one more shot. After that, it's up to her." And with that thought on his mind, Booth pulled off and headed to the Jeffersonian, where he was sure Bones would still be hard at work.

* * *

Thoughts? Now's a good time to let me know 


	2. In Which Booth and Brennan Have Dinner

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I hope everyone enjoys this one as well. Personally, I had fun writing it, so maybe you guys will have fun with it, too. I hope so, anyway. Longer than the last one, hope no one minds. Not proofread...those who have read me before know that I'm just lazy :-) Thoughts, comments, and threats of physical violence (provided there is no real physical harm) are always accepted. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Booth was standing in Temperance's office. She was at her desk, working on paperwork and clicking away on her computer. Her office was like a little pocket of light in the otherwise dark building, and Booth stood in front of her, hands on his hips, his temper threatening to flare again. Despite his best attempts at talking with her, he was quickly finding that his brain was moving swiftly into _fight_ mode.

_She saved your ass on this case, _he reminded himself. _Play nice. She's all about reason—communicate. She's your friend. You get along with each other. Reach out._

"Why don't you come to dinner with me tonight, Bones," Booth said. It was technically phrased as a question, though his voice communicated it as a simple statement, like 'tennis balls are yellow.'

"Why?" Temperance asked, glancing at him for a moment before looking back at her work. Her tone was somewhat skeptical, but if she was going to be honest, she had to admit that she was tired of arguing with him. They had done enough of that lately.

"'Why?' What do you mean 'why?'"

"I mean why—why do you want me to go to dinner with you?"

"Because you're my partner, and we just finished a hard case, and I'd like to buy you dinner." Booth kept his tone steady, even as a tiny light behind his eyes blinked red. _Danger, danger, I'm starting to feel annoyed._

"Why are you buying?"

"Because…I'm the guy."

"That's so antiquated."

"Only you would use a negative four syllable word to describe what was meant to be a nice gesture."

"Should I be offended by that comment?"

"No, I mean…geez, Bones, it's _dinner_! Why won't you just come out with me?"

Temperance turned her eyes back to the paperwork on her desk. "Booth, the case was over two days ago. Why do you want to go out tonight?"

_Here's your chance. Be honest. Be nice. _"Because I just finished all my paperwork today, and because it's Friday and I can't let you stay here and work all night."

"Well, I _didn't_ finish my paperwork today, so I need to stay here tonight and finish it. I've got to spend all next week catching up on my other work that I didn't get to during this case, so I don't have time to put this off." She didn't say it aggressively, and Booth did his best to avoid feeling frustrated. She was just being honest. Honesty was good.

Booth reached out and tried to block her pen with his hand. "We all know that if you don't finish it tonight, you're just going to work on it tomorrow anyway. And you need some time off…it was a long case."

Temperance sighed. "Listen, Booth, I really appreciate the thought. I do."

_Progress_, he thought.

"But the fact is I really don't have time tonight."

He gave her a lopsided half smirk. "Oh, I think you do."

She couldn't help the small smile in return, and when it appeared on her face, they both felt as though a water balloon had been broken over their heads on a hot summer day. This was the longest conversation they had had without fighting in two weeks. They started feeling like themselves again. "I'm serious. I have stacks of work to catch up on, not to mention all the new work that's going to be coming in while I'm working on the backed up work…"

"See that? Right there? That was you stressed out. C'mon, we're going to dinner. I'll buy you a margarita, we'll laugh at the people at other tables, it'll be great." He moved toward the door and grabbed her jacket.

"Booth…"

He turned around and smiled. "Bones."

_Damn, why does he have to seem so charming?_ She sighed more heavily and dropped her pen. "Between you and your FBI cases it's amazing that I ever get any of my work done."

"Atta girl," he said with a smirk. "Mexican sound good?"

"I can't, Booth, not tonight."

"You know you want to, Bones," he said, giving her a teasing smile. "Admit it. You want to go with me."

"Why would I want to go with you?"

He gave her his best smile. "Because I'm such a dashing young lad."

* * *

Despite their arguing during the case, Booth and Brennan went to dinner that night and found a common ground. And the name of that ground was tequila.

After one margarita, they were talking, though carefully, still walking on eggshells. Two margaritas and they were laughing and talking, bantering back and forth like they always had. After three, they felt relaxed and completely back to normal, if not a bit more open. As Temperance took a sip from the salty rim of her glass, she couldn't help but smile. The case drifted away from their minds, bring much needed and welcome relief.

"C'mon, Bones, just tell me."

Temperance balked at him, mouth slightly open. "What? No! Why would I tell you that?"

He smiled broadly at her, amusement clearly showing in his eyes. "Oh, c'mon, I'll tell you."

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow. "Really?"

He mimicked her pose. "Really."

She looked at him for a moment, narrowing her eyes as if she were studying him to see if he was telling the truth. After a long moment, she said, "okay," and leaned back up, resting her elbows on the table where her plate had been sitting thirty minutes before. "Go ahead."

"Why do I have to go first?" he asked.

"Because if I go first, you might not tell me."

"Well, using your logic, how do I know that _you_ will tell _me_?"

"I'm giving you my word."

"Hmm…should I trust that?"

She gave him a surprised, open mouthed expression. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Well, I _did_ see you steal that bone from the Chinese woman's house…"

"_Borrowed_. And that was different, we thought it was a murder victim!"

"And then at the same house I find out that you have just been _pretending_ that you didn't know Chinese…"

"That…that's different."

He laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll pretend that I have every reason to trust you."

She had to smile back. She then took another sip of her margarita and looked at Booth expectantly.

Booth leaned back up to the table, resting his forearms on the edge. He looked at the tablecloth, and Temperance could see an almost childlike glint come into his eyes as he started to speak. "Her name was Lindsey Taylor. She lived two doors down from me. She had brown hair, brown eyes, freckles…" Booth smiled a bit wider. "And she had—and I remember this distinctly—a pair of red sneakers, with white stripes on the sides." He chuckled. "She was two years older than me, had no idea I existed. Her family moved in in May. On the fourth of July everyone went down to this park where they set off fireworks and stuff, and so I snuck into my dad's room and practically bathed in this God-awful cologne he had." He chuckled again. "He was pissed when he found out; you could probably smell me halfway down the block. Anyway, I showed up for the fireworks, and she was there with some other girls. I waited until she was alone for a minute, and then I just kinda snuck up on her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, and I didn't know what to do, I hadn't really planned it out, so I just went for it and kissed her…well, I was aiming for her lips, but I was kind of short then, so I hit her somewhere around the chin. She looked so horrified. She told me to go away, I was the object of ridicule…but you know what? I didn't care. I was in love."

Temperance smiled, and laughed slightly. "How old were you?"

Booth took a sip of margarita. "Seven."

Temperance laughed a little harder. "You were seven years old the first time you fell in love?"

Booth shrugged with a smile. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

Temperance shook her head. "What happened with her?"

"Well, eventually school started again, and I feel in love with Mrs. Price, my teacher. I lost track of Lindsey after that."

Temperance couldn't help laughing.

"Okay, okay," Booth said. "Laugh all you want. She was hot." He gave Temperance a wide smile, settling back. "Alright, your turn. Who was the first person you fell in love with?"

Temperance twirled her fingers around the stem of her half empty glass. "Ken Kohen."

"Jewish?"

Temperance nodded with a smile.

"And how old was young Bones the first time she fell for the charms of this fine Jewish boy?"

"Ten."

"And you made fun of me for falling in love at seven."

"At least I was old enough to stay up past eight o'clock when I fell in love."

"Well said. So go on, tell me about the gentleman."

"He was a friend of Russ'."

"Let me guess—the smartest kid in his class?"

"The class clown."

Booth leaned up, intrigued. "Really?"

Temperance nodded. "Curly black hair, brown eyes…he was one of Russ' best friends, so he came over a lot."

"So what did you do?"

Temperance smiled, still twirling her fingers around her glass stem. "I asked Russ about a million questions about him. And when he was around, I would kind of follow Russ, too. It really got on his nerves. And I practiced writing 'Temperance Kohen' in cursive." Temperance blushed, wondering for a moment why she was telling Booth all of this.

"I thought you were against marriage."

"I was _ten_, Booth."

"True. So, did he ever find out?"

"Well, he did eventually, Russ found one of the sheets I had written 'Temperance Kohen' on and showed it to him."

"What did he do?"

"He said it was gross, Russ thought it was hilarious."

"Oh." Booth looked at her for moment, wondering why she was still smiling.

"Then Russ left the room, and he kissed me on the cheek." Temperance smiled at Booth, and he couldn't tell if the rosy hue on her cheeks was from the memory or from the alcohol. "He eventually moved away, I don't really know what ever happened to him."

Booth smiled. "So both of our first kisses were with our first loves, huh?"

Temperance smiled, taking a sip of her drink. "Who said that was my first kiss?"

Booth, to surprised for a moment to answer, just looked at her. Temperance laughed back in response to his expression.

* * *

After received multiple dirty looks from the wait staff for sitting at their table long after they had finished eating, Temperance and Booth got up and left. The evening air was cool when they walked out, but with the warm undertones of summer. Booth called them a cab and instructed the driver to take them to Temperance's first. When they arrived, Temperance turned to Booth.

"This was fun."

"You sound surprised," Booth commented.

"I am."

Taken aback, Booth answered, "hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Temperance smiled. "See you later."

Booth smiled back. "Yeah, see ya."

And with that, Temperance climbed out and head for her apartment, fishing her keys out of her bag as she went. The cab pulled off, and Booth settled into the brown seat, allowing the smooth motion of the ride to wash over him.

* * *

Temperance was sitting in her apartment, working on the last of the paperwork from her case with Booth. She had gone to the Jeffersonian earlier that morning so that she could pick up the work, as well as her car, which she had left after having dinner with Booth the night before. She was just finishing the next to last page when she heard a knock on her door.

She got up, crossed the room, and pulled the door open to find a bored looking teenager standing in her doorway, holding a red thermal pizza bag.

"Delivery for…" he checked his slip, "…T. Brennan?"

"I didn't order any pizza," Temperance said, confused by the boy presence.

She then heard the ding of the elevator somewhere behind him in the hallway, and few moments later a man's voice saying, "whoa, whoa, yeah, hi, I ordered that." Booth was now behind the boy, pulling out his wallet. "How much is it?"

"10.50," said the kid. Booth handed him the money and his tip, accepting the pizza.

"Thanks," Booth said as the kid walked away. Temperance just looked at Booth, confused. "Hey, Bones, I got us a pizza."

"Uh, I can see that." She paused. "Why?"

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a rented DVD. "Because we need something to eat while we watch this."

"We can't watch that here, Booth, I don't have a TV."

Booth paused for a minute. "Oh. Right. I forgot that."

They stood for a moment in the doorway, Temperance looking at him expectantly.

"Well, can I at least come in? I _did _get a pizza."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Temperance said, stepping out of the way. Booth walked in and set the pizza in the kitchen. He then walked back and glanced at Temperance's stack of paperwork. "Finished it yet?"

"I would have," Temperance said. "Did I know you were coming?"

"Well, I figured you'd have had enough of working on all this by now, so I thought I'd, you know, liven up your night a little bit."

"Why?"

"Why do you always have to ask 'why,' Bones?"

Temperance sighed. "Okay…so, you're just here to visit?'

"Exactly. That's what friends do. They visit." He gave her a cocky half smile and dropped onto the couch.

"Okay…" Temperance sat down beside him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Soo…" Booth said eventually, breaking the quiet.

"So?"

"Who was your first kiss?"

Temperance just laughed in response.

* * *

Booth and Temperance spent and easy evening at Temperance's that night. They laughed, talked, and by the time Booth left at midnight, he couldn't remember why he had felt so angry at her before when he had been talking to Dr. Wyatt. Being around her was…relaxing. The time seemed to melt away, and before he knew it, his eyes were getting heavy. He saw Temperance's eyes grow weary as well, and he decided it was time to go. They bid one another a quick goodnight, and he left.

Temperance cleaned up the dishes and leftover pizza as Booth drove himself home. Though neither knew that the other was thinking the same thing, they both had a moment when they realized that during all the time they were together, they hadn't stopped smiling once.

* * *

If the mood strikes, I'll accept reviews


	3. In Which Angela Shares an Opinion

Author's Note: Okay, I know, it's been a ridiculously long time since my last update. I'm really sorry. In my defense, life's been crazy lately between work, school, family crap, and I managed to crash and completely total my car a couple weeks ago...oh, and I haven't seen Bones in a while. So, yeah...that's my excuse :-) As far as this chapter goes, I've decided that this story takes place after Boneless Bride, but that any episodes after that, essentially, didn't happen as far as this fic is concerned. So, Hodgins and Angela are dating, but that's it. And Sully left. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last couple of chapters! This one is shorter than usual, but it broke nicely at the end, so...hope you like it. Go ahead and read!

* * *

Monday morning tore through Washington D.C. in much the same way that a big sister tears through her little brother's room, stealing the good humor out of the hands of all the respectable working people and hanging it firmly out of reach on Friday, only to be retrieved after another week of hard fought responsibility. It is actually rumored that at 6am in D.C., just after all the alarm clocks go off, the collective groan that erupts from the city can be heard from the second ring of Saturn. And, if one were to listen closely enough on this particular Monday morning, one might just be able to pick out the muffled groans of the employees of the Jeffersonian and the FBI as they were dragged from their warm beds and back into the world of dirt, bones, and murders.

Armed with coffee, Angela Montenegro arrived at work promptly at 8:30am, and after a quick scan of the work awaiting her for the day, she opted to pay a visit to her best friend, Temperance Brennan, who, ironically, was not at all struggling to get back into the flow of the work week that morning.

Angela walked into Temperance's office and flopped down on the couch. "I think I'm going to kill my boyfriend," she stated bluntly.

"You do realize that if he dies now I have to testify against you," Temperance answered, never once looking up from the paper on her desk.

"He's infuriating," Angela continued, ignoring Temperance's statement entirely. "He dragged me to some God-awful movie on Saturday night and then got mad when I wasn't interested."

"Mhmm…" Temperance said, still not looking up.

"I mean, what did he think I was going to do? Take notes? It was boring. He had to know I wasn't going to like it when he picked it."

"Mhmm…"

"Wouldn't that irritate you?"

"Mmm…"

Angela sighed. "Could you at least _pretend_ to be interested?"

"Mmm…"

"Brennan!"

Temperance looked up, her pen hovering over what she had been writing. "What? I was listening. Hodgins took you to a movie and you took notes."

Angela sighed. "Great. Good talk, Bren."

Temperance looked at her with a confused expression before returning to her work.

Angela rolled her eyes. "C'mon, interact with me here, I know you've been working all weekend anyway, a little conversation would do you good."

"I didn't get that much done this weekend," Temperance responded absently as she initialed another page.

"Really?" Angela said, perking up slightly. "What were you doing?"

"Booth and I went to dinner on Friday and he ended up showing up on Saturday."

Angela paused for a moment, studying Tempe, who was still working steadily as if she hadn't even noticed her own statement. "You spent the _whole weekend_ with Booth?"

"No. I didn't see him at all yesterday."

"What happened?"

Temperance shrugged. "I don't know, I guess he was doing something else."

Angela sighed again. "I _meant_ why did you and Booth spend so much time together this weekend?"

"We went to dinner on Friday to celebrate the case being over," Temperance said, flipping the page. "And Saturday he was just bored, so he showed up."

"So, you had two dates with Booth this weekend."

Temperance glanced up. "No…"

"Well then how would you define what you two were doing?"

"Spending time together. Booth's a friend."

"Oh, _honey_…"

"The fact that he's male and I'm female doesn't dictate that all time we spend together is in a romantic context."

"This is me you're talking to, Tempe. Angela. And you're talking about Booth. I know you, don't think I don't know what's going on."

"Nothing is going on."

"You're dating Booth."

Temperance gave her a surprised look. "I am _not_ dating Booth."

"Sure you aren't. Tell me, who paid when you went to dinner?"

"He was thanking me for helping him solve the case."

"And on Saturday, what did you do?"

"He just showed up at my apartment, it wasn't a date."

"And did you eat?"

"Yeah…"

"And who purchased the food that night?"

"He showed up with pizza, that isn't a date. That's college."

Angela leaned forward on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "Okay, Tempe, let me explain this to you. I know you've spent a lot of time studying the customs and practices of long dead societies, and that you're a very observant person by nature, but if you'll let me I'd like to clue you in on the way things work in _this_ culture."

Temperance glanced at her, her look a cross between confusion and amusement.

"In our society, when a man invites a woman to dinner and then purchases her meal, it is referred to as a 'date.' Essentially, the man hopes to win the affection of the woman by feeding her food she likes and confusing her with alcohol."

Temperance sighed and shook her head, though she couldn't help smiling. "It wasn't a date, Angela. I've been on dates. This was two friends having dinner."

"What did you talk about?"

Temperance shrugged. "Different things. Childhood memories, first crushes…"

"Date."

"What? Why do you say 'date'?"

"You talked about first crushes. Very much a 'date' conversation."

Temperance shook her head, going back to her work. "You're insane."

"Fine, fine. Just tell me this—did you make plans for this weekend?"

"No," Temperance answered, continuing to write.

"Oh," Angela said, deflating somewhat.

"Knock, knock." Angela and Temperance both looked up and saw Booth stride into the office.

"Hey, Booth," Angela said with a smile. "How was your weekend?" She said 'weekend' with a bit more emphasis than was really necessary.

Apparently missing the implication, Booth just glanced at her. "Fine. Hey, Bones, I need a favor."

"What?" Temperance asked, her pen pausing again over her stack of papers.

Booth pulled two white tickets out of his jacket pocket. "Well, see, I have to go to this FBI gala thing this weekend. Black tie, blah blah blah, the thing is, I forgot about it, and now I need someone to go with."

"Oo, a gala. That sounds fun, I'm sure you two are going to have a _great_ time," Angela said, her smirk widening as she looked at Temperance.

Temperance glanced at Angela for half a second and then looked back at Booth, ignoring the implication from her best friend's words. "Why don't you just not go?"

"No, see, I _have_ to go. One of the other agents is getting some big award, and there are going to be senators there and…it's just kind of a big deal. I'm required to go."

"Why don't you just ask Cam or Angela?"

"Because Hodgins would probably sic some kind of mutant race of bugs on me if I asked Angela, and Cam…" Booth cleared his throat. "She, uh, she was kind of _going_ to go, before, you know, when…but, anyway…can you come?"

"I don't know if I can this weekend."

"Aw, c'mon, Bones! I need some help here! I'm dangerously close to calling an escort service!"

"You'd have fun, Sweetie. You should go," Angela said, still wearing a smirk.

Temperance sighed. "Okay, fine, I'll go."

Booth smiled widely. "Ah, I knew I could count on you, Bones! I'll pick you up at your place, Saturday at 7?"

"Fine," Temperance answered.

"Great. I owe you one, Bones."

"After the last couple of cases you've brought us? You owe me more than one."

Booth smiled somewhat sheepishly before bidding the two women goodbye and retreating from the office. Temperance resumed her work while Angela stared at her, still wearing a satisfied smirk.

When Temperance couldn't take it anymore, she looked up at Angela. "What?" she said with a sigh.

Angela pushed herself up from the couch. "_Date_," she said simply, and with that she walked from the room.

* * *

Let me know what you're thinking


	4. In Which Booth and Brennan Aren't Dating

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! As far as this one goes, I'm really just playing around with characters, hopefully doing some different things in terms of their development. Basically, that just means that they are probably completely out of character in this chapter... :-) Anyway, hope you have some fun with it. The songs listed have no real significance other than that I was listening to them when I was writing the chapter...they're all great, you should download them and listen to them while reading :-) Oh, and one of them is the name of this story, so that's fun...anyway. Not proofread (I'm lazy) but hope you enjoy!

* * *

At seven pm on Saturday evening, Booth was speeding down the road at eighty miles per hour, still five minutes away from Temperance's. His eyes flicked to the clock on the radio just in time to catch the digital display clicking from '7:00' to '7:01.' _Damn_ he thought to himself, trying to keep himself from pressing the accelerator harder. He removed one sweaty hand from his steering wheel and smoothed it down the leg of his back pants. He couldn't be late tonight. Everything had to be perfect. After all, his boss would be there tonight. His boss's bosses would be there. And their bosses. And their bosses…

His eyes flicked to the passenger seat. Well, at least he had remembered the flowers, even if they were making him late. Tires squealing slightly as he took a turn too quickly, he continued to fly toward Temperance's apartment.

Slamming on the brakes at he arrived in the parking lot, he threw the SUV into park almost before it was completely stopped and twisted out the key, grabbing for the flowers while simultaneously vaulting himself from the driver's seat. He jogged up the stairs and, slightly out of breath, quickly tried to compose himself as he knocked three times on the door.

The door was opened a few moments later, revealing Temperance in a floor length black dress, her head cocked to the side as she worked on an earring. "Hey, Booth, just give me two minutes." She turned and quickly headed back to the bathroom, leaving Booth standing in a soft breeze of her perfume.

Booth just stood in the doorway, flowers in hand and slightly dripping on her floor, staring after her. She looked…beautiful. The dress was simple, elegant, but it commanded a certain…dignity. There was more makeup around her eyes, he noticed. Her hair was pulled back loosely, slightly curly pieces framing her face. Shaking his head lightly and gathering himself, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

"Sorry," she called from the bathroom, "I was working and I lost track of time."

He smiled to himself. "Hey, I managed to be on time, but whatever."

She stuck her head out the door, fixing him with a playful smirk. Pointing to the clock, she said, "yeah, I can see that."

He chuckled in response, perching himself slightly on the arm of her couch, being as careful as possible to avoid wrinkling his black suit. She reappeared a minute later.

"Okay," she said. "Now I just need…" her eyes were scanning the floor, "…shoes."

Booth scanned the floor with her, and then pointed to a pair of black high heels in the corner. "Thanks," she said, pulling them onto her feet.

He stood up again, brushed his suit straight, and held out the mixed bouquet of yellow, white, and orange flowers. "For you," he said with a boyish grin.

Pausing for a moment, a slow smile came across Temperance's face. "Oh…thank you, Booth. They're lovely."

"'Lovely'?"

She smiled at him. "You know what I mean." She accepted the flowers and headed to the kitchen in search of water. "Would you mind grabbing my purse for me?" she called over her shoulder as she retreated.

He glanced around, finding a black evening clutch sitting on the coffee table. He picked it up and headed for the door, which he held open for Temperance when she reappeared.

They walked back down to Booth's SUV, where Booth opened Temperance's door for her before jogging around to his side, all the while forgetting that he was still holding the purse. When he was inside, Temperance gave him another smirk. "The handbag makes you look very masculine."

He looked down at the purse, then back up at her face. "You know, it makes me feel masculine, too."

They both shared an easy laugh as Booth put the car in drive, speeding them off to the FBI gala.

* * *

Booth and Temperance arrived at the gala a short while later. They found their table and mingled with a few people that Booth knew. Booth was also careful to introduce to famous Doctor Brennan to a few of the higher ups who he was trying to impress. Finally, after a while, Booth offered to get Temperance a glass of champagne. She waited at the table, and when he came back they made small talk for a few minutes between sips. Finally, the conversation began to lag.

"Soo…" Booth said, after a few minutes of silence.

"So…" Temperance echoed. "This is kind of…boring," she added, slowly.

Booth set down his half empty champagne flute, blowing out a small sigh. "Oh, God yes," he replied, causing them both to smile.

They both relaxed a bit then, making quiet comments to one another, sarcastic observations on those around them. By the time someone stood up at the microphone, both Temperance and Booth were laughing steadily, both having a great time.

The dinner followed quickly after that, followed by awards and speeches. For the most part, the evening moved along easily, and soon the speeches were over. Before long, the music was going full force, and as some of the guests with farther to travel began to disperse, the dance floor became populated.

Couples of all ages began showing their talents on the dance floor. One man and woman, who Temperance would have guessed had to be in their eighties, stared twirling and dancing to a particularly fast song which began playing. The woman laughed at the man spun her in circles, the skirt of her dark blue dress flaring out, her hair white hair slipping from pins. Temperance had to smile as she watched.

Noticing her smile, Booth turned to her as the song switched, another upbeat tempo beginning. "Care to dance?" he asked, extending a hand.

She hesitated for half a second before smiling back. "Sure," she answered. And with that they got up and headed to the floor.

Within moments on the dance floor, both Booth and Temperance were laughing like kids as the Counting Crows sang "Accidentally in Love." Booth spun Temperance, Temperance spun Booth as they danced out of step with the music. By the time the song ended they were both out of breath and grinning like idiots.

As several out of breath couples headed off the dance floor for some much needed refreshment, a soft jazz song came out across the speakers, Nora Jones' "Don't Know Why." Catching Temperance's hand, Booth pulled her in and they began swaying to the music with an ease that surprised both of them. They were slightly stiff in the beginning, though Booth hands rested easily on Temperance's hips as hers fell naturally on his shoulders. Booth held her close enough that they weren't looking into each other's eyes, giving them both the chance to silently question how this suddenly intimate pose had come about. The soothing sounds washed over them, however, and soon they felt the tension melt away, leaving them molded to one another, cheeks barely brushing. Booth breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent, closing his eyes…and then he caught himself. What was he doing?

Temperance felt him tense and pulled back slightly. She was immediately met with his eyes, connecting with hers. He looked different now, she noticed. Something had changed. His grip on her had shifted as well; where he was once merely resting his hands on her hips, he now had his left arm wrapped around her, circling her waist while his right hand rested on the side of her ribs. There was almost a half smile on his face, as if he were just now realizing that she was there.

For her part, Temperance felt herself beginning to blush under his gaze. "Are you okay?" she asked, the softness of her own voice surprising her.

At her voice, his eyes seemed to register and become somewhat more normal. "Yeah. Yeah."

Unwilling to leave the subject, she pressed further. "What?"

"Nothing, I was just…thinking. Just…I don't know…do you think…I mean, doesn't this just feel kind of…normal?"

Almost without their noticing, the song switched to "Wonderful Tonight," by Eric Clapton.

"What do you mean?" Temperance asked.

Booth half shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, shouldn't this feel weird or something?"

"Why should it feel weird? We're just dancing…right?"

Booth nodded. "Yeah, but…I don't know. Forget I said anything." Pulling her close again so he wouldn't meet her eyes, Booth's thoughts ran wild for a moment. Didn't she notice it? Wasn't she aware of the very non-platonic pose they were in? _Great. She didn't feel anything, and now you've made a fool of yourself. Smooth. Real smooth._

At his ear, he heard her clear her throat slightly. Pulling back again, their eyes reconnected. And suddenly, Booth was certain he was falling. It was a strangely intense moment, so intense that the both stopped dancing, neither moving. They just stood in the middle of the dance floor, perfectly still, arms wrapped around one another, staring into the other's eyes.

And somehow in that moment, Booth got it. He saw it. She had felt it too. A smile broke slightly on his face, an impish grin that only curved the right side of his mouth.

"Angela thinks we're dating," Temperance stated. She said it casually, but Booth thought he detected a slight question in her voice.

"Hasn't she thought that for two years?"

Temperance chuckled, a quiet laugh in the back of her throat that Booth felt rumble between them, making his heart rate increase. Almost instinctively, as if he didn't know what else to do, he pulled her in closer.

They continued to slowly sway as the song smoothly went on. When the song switched to the more upbeat Gavin DeGraw singing "Follow Through," Booth felt a note of disappointment. Pulling back somewhat reluctantly, he and Temperance slipped into a faster dance, though it was a touch slower than the quick movements of many of the half drunk couples around them. Soon, they found that their motions seemed in sync, almost choreographed, as they moved carefully, to strategists trying to figure one another out.

Staying close enough to one another that they could still maintain some conversation, Booth spun Temperance one more time. And the true dance began.

"What did you say to Angela when she said she thought we were dating?" Booth asked.

"I said she was crazy," Temperance answered.

"Oh, so the idea of someone dating me is crazy?"

"No, the idea of _me_ dating you is crazy."

"And why is that?"

Still dancing, though almost without thought, Temperance balked at Booth. "Because you're my partner! We work together."

"A lot of people work together."

"And you're my friend. I can't date you."

"Friends can date. You've never dated someone you were friends with?"

"No."

Surprised, Booth gave her a look. "Never?"

"The dating thing ruined the friendship. We were friends when we started, but by the end…"

"Dating doesn't _have_ to ruin friendships…"

"Of course it does. It's almost impossible to be friends after a break-up. You know too much about one another."

"What if you don't break up?"

Temperance gave him a smile. "Everyone breaks up eventually."

"Not everyone…"

"Most people. And with a friendship involved…the odds are against you. If you care about the friendship, it's better not to take the risk."

Still dancing, Booth brought himself close enough to put a throaty whisper in her ear. "I disagree." Stepping back, they continued their dance. "I think if it's a true friendship, it's worth the risk. A true friendship can survive."

"Why take the risk? If the friendship is strong…"

"Think how strong the relationship would be," Booth finished with a grin. "You know I'm right." He stepped close again. "C'mon, Bones. Admit it."

The song began to fade out, and Temperance and Booth released hands, looking at one another. Over the sound system, the opening cords of "I Will Wait" by Hootie and the Blowfish began to play. Booth cocked his head to the side. "What do ya say, Bones?"

She studied him for a moment, wondering if he was referring to dancing.

With a smile, she studied him a moment longer before stepping back toward him, accepting the dance. Their pace was slower than was called for by the up-beat song, but neither seemed to notice. Tentatively, Temperance looked up and found Booth looking back at her, the same careful look on his face.

"It would be a mistake," she said gently.

"Yeah, I know," Booth said, the smile on his face looking a bit more sad.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He nodded, the sadness in his smile spreading closer to his eyes. "Me too."

Temperance leaned closer to his chest as they swayed, completely out of time with the music. Then, as the chorus of the song surged on, Temperance pulled back. Looking down at her questioningly, the voices on the speakers sang _I can't wait to make the promises that I've been leery of_. A silent beat passed between them as they froze again on the dance floor. And a second later, they both found that they were drifting closer, eyes falling slowly closed. And finally, their lips met, gently, simply. They hesitated for a moment, neither really wanted to break contact. When they did pull back, they looked back into one another's eyes and smiled.

"So…we aren't dating?" Booth asked with a smile.

Temperance smiled wider. "Yeah. We aren't dating." And with that, they kissed again, ignoring the couples dancing around them, as the music played on.

* * *

Your thoughts here


	5. In Which Booth Gets Jittery

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I know its been a while since I last updated. Insert all my usual excuses here. Anyway, this chapter...it's pretty straighforward. If I'm being honest, I guess this chapter isn't all that necessary, but I liked it. Hope you do too. This isn't proofread...proofreading is something good writer's do. Since you're reading my work, you lose out on the proofreading :-) Feel free to tell me where I messed up...criticism always accepted. Enjoy!

* * *

The subtle aphrodisiacs of wine and flattering lighting fled quickly after Temperance and Booth gathered their things and stepped outside. Booth took a moment to look up at the sky as they moved toward the SUV, noticing that, in fact, there was not holy light and halleluiah chorus and that the stars were not shining any brighter, despite all the cheesy lines he had heard in movies and in dime a dozen pop songs on the radio. As a matter of fact, not only were the stars not shining any brighter, but it was actually a bit cloudy. Forcing himself to look away from the sky and back at where he was walking when he almost ran into a parked car, Booth shook his head slightly, trying to bring his thoughts back to earth.

He took two quick steps to get in front of Temperance as they approached the car, opening her door for her. She gave him a smile and climbed in wordlessly, waiting as he closed the door and walked around to his own. When they were comfortably situated in the car, Booth slid the key into the ignition and then hesitated before starting the vehicle.

And in that beat of silence, the fog of awkwardness that flooded the car was so thick that Booth and Temperance would have sworn they lost sight of one another for a moment.

Booth cleared his throat quickly, desperate for some kind of noise, and turned the key, exhaling a breath of relief as the purr of the engine reached his ears.

They didn't say anything as Booth pulled out of the parking spot. No one spoke as he repositioned the car, steering them out of the lot. It was silent as he turned on his blinker, checked the road, and eased out into the night traffic.

_C'mon, man_ his brain urged. _Say something. Be charming._ "So," Booth said, clearing his throat, "that was a nice party. Food was good." _'Food was good'?! Food was good?! Is that _really_ the best you could do?_

"Yeah, it was great," Temperance answered.

"I had a really good time. I mean…it was, uh…did you have a good time?" Okay, he was sweating now. He could use a bottle of water. _Form a coherent sentence. Can you handle that? Normal communication? Speaking while still having a point?_

Temperance smiled slightly as she saw his discomfort as he gripped the steering wheel with an unnecessary intensity, and then nodded. "Yeah, I had a great time. It was a really nice ceremony."

"Yeah, great ceremony. The centerpieces were nice." He mentally slapped himself in the head. _Centerpieces? Really? You want to be _that_ guy?_

Temperance nodded slowly again, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at him. "You okay, Booth?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm good. Great. Totally fine." _Just…stop talking. Really, just don't say anything. Please…just become a mute._

A smile inched across Temperance's face, even as she tried to hide it. "Are you…sweating?"

Booth reached for the air conditioner, turning it on. "It's just…hot in here, that's all," he mumbled.

"It's 65 degrees outside."

"Heavy suit."

"Ah, right." She smiled again.

The silence can again, this time leaving Booth feeling awkward and leaving Temperance feeling amused.

Booth glanced down and saw her hand resting near the center console. _Should I try to hold her hand? I don't want to seem needy. Was she serious about us dating? If she doesn't really want to date, I don't want her to know that dating is what I want…_

A low chuckle rose of Temperance's side of the car, bring Booth out of his thoughts.

"What?" asked, glancing at her before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Nothing," she said, still chuckling slightly. "You're just acting all fidgety."

"Fidgety?"

"You adjusted your tie six times since we left the parking lot."

Noticing that his hand was headed for the now loose knot at his neck once again, he quickly dropped his hand. "Have not," he mumbled, in a voice that sounded surprisingly like Parker.

She just continued to smile as they glided down the road.

* * *

Arriving at Temperance's a short while later, Booth and Temperance climbed out of the car and walked together to Temperance's apartment. Reaching her door, they both hesitated for a moment, this time both feeling slightly apprehensive.

"Thanks for tonight," Temperance said, deciding to keep things light. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah?" Booth said with a slight nod. "So did I."

The silence came back. Booth cleared his throat to break it. "Listen," he began, "about what we were…talking about, you know, before…"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say that, uh, you know…the we-aren't-dating thing…"

She nodded.

"Yeah. How…uh, how does this work now?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "It's out there now…"

"We can't just go back," Booth agreed.

"Well, I mean, I guess we could _technically_, if we really wanted to. I mean, we could just say it never happened…"

Heart skipping a shallow beat and then deflating, Booth nodded slowly.

Seeing his nod, Temperance's heart had a similar reaction. "Or…" she began.

Booth brightened. "Or?"

"Well, I mean…" she turned her palms up and give a small shrug.

Booth nodded again, chewing his lip. They surveyed one another for a quiet moment.

And then, as if talking merely through the silence, they both leaned slightly closer.

When Booth felt his lips brush against Temperance's, he had to fight the urge to grin. When he stepped closer and she did the same, he felt like someone had just dealt him a royal flush in Las Vegas. And when her mouth opened slightly under his, allowing his tongue to tentatively ghost against hers, he found that he wasn't able to think at all.

He eventually became aware of the fact that his fingers were twisted in her hair, pulling strands out of the pins that held it in place all evening. His left arm circled her ribs, around her back, holding her to him with no chance of escape. Her arms twined around his neck, the skin of her bare arms resting on his neck where she had inadvertently pushed the collar of his jacket away.

It was one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful moments of Booth life. The way she fit precisely in his arms, the way her body rested flush against his, the way her tongue moved with his, as if they had spend months practicing for just this moment. _In a way, maybe we have…_Booth mused for a moment to himself, but the thought was quickly overshadowed by Temperance shifting slightly as the kiss continued.

When they finally did pull away and look at one another, they both knew that there was no taking this back. Even if they wanted to. Booth brushed a curl off Temperance's cheek, smiling. "This could work, you know."

She a smile came to her lips as well. "Probably not."

Booth chuckled. "Yeah…you're probably right…"

Temperance nodded. "But…I guess there's only one way we can know for sure."

"I think it's worth finding out," Booth said with a cheeky impish grin.

Temperance returned the smile. "Yeah…I think so, too."

Booth twirled his keys around his finger. "So…I'll call you tomorrow?"

Temperance nodded. "Yeah."

Booth leaned in again, allowing them another kiss before he stepped back. "Goodnight, Dr. Brennan."

"Goodnight, Agent Booth."

And with that, Temperance let herself into her apartment as Booth strode down the hall, vaguely aware of the fact that by the time he reached the parking lot, he was whistling.

* * *

Thoughts? Go for it


	6. In Which Brennan Starves Booth

Author's Note: Soo...it's been a while... :-) I figure most people have forgotten this story, but I was in the mood to work on it, and I figure, hey, better than never, right? I apologize for the writing here...in the time I haven't been writing this, I also haven't been watching Bones...in fact, I'm still only part way through season two I think, haha. Hope everyone can live with that. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, despite how late it is. Enjoy!

* * *

Monday morning arrived in DC with its usual haste, and when Angela shuffled into the office of her best friend at 8:30am, she was still blurry-eyed and fantasizing about her warm bed. She entered the office without knocking or offering a greeting and placed a cup filled with hot liquid caffeine on Temperance's desk before flopping onto the couch and taking a long drag of her half empty "liquid energy," as she liked to call it. After reaching a convenient stopping point on her computer screen, Temperance picked up the coffee and acknowledged her friend's presence.

"Thanks," she said, holding up the cup.

Angela just nodded, taking another drag as Temperance did the same.

"I don't understand why we have to start so early in the morning. Dirt and bones are the same at 10 as they are at 7."

"Our tradition of starting early in the morning is deeply engrained in our history. Before the invention of electricity, the mere idea of losing daylight would have been…"

Angela held up her hand, cutting Temperance off. "Okay, Sweetie, I get it. Anthropology explains everything. Message received." She took another sip of her coffee and blew out a short, satisfied sigh. "So, tell me, how was your weekend." She paused for a moment before her eyes flashed. "How was the gala?"

Temperance did her best to stifle the small smile that came to her lips at the memory of that night. "It was…we had a good time."

A twinkle flashed into Angela's eye. "Temperance Brennan…"

"It was fine. Food was good. Centerpieces were nice," Temperance said, taking another sip of her coffee to hide her oncoming smile as she recited Booth's awkward words from the car.

Angela gave Temperance a somewhat confused looked. "Centerpieces? Who pays attention to the centerpieces?"

Temperance shrugged.

"So…?"

"So…what?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "_So_…what happened? Did he make a move? Did you make a move? Were there any moves being made at all?"

"We had a good time."

"Did he buy you breakfast on Sunday?"

Temperance gave Angela a quizzical look, clearing missing the implication of this statement, which Angela took as an answer in itself. When, after another few moments passed, Temperance still did say anything, Angela rolled her eyes, growing impatient. "_C'mon_, Sweetie, _details_. I need some details here."

Temperance shrugged. "I don't know, we danced, we laughed..."

Sensing that direction would be needed, Angela took control of the conversation. "Alright, from the beginning. What did you wear?"

"A black evening gown."

"Ooh, the one with the drop back?"

Temperance paused. "Um, yeah...should I be disturbed by your knowledge of my closet?"

"And I assume he wore a suit...flowers?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There were flowers, yes."

"Good boy, Booth. Of course there were flowers. What did you talk about?"

Temperance shrugged. "Different things. The people around us, general stuff. He introduced me to people."

"And you danced?"

"Yes, we danced."

"Fast dance, slow dance...?"

"Yes."

Angela's grin widened. "So...where does this leave you guys? Have you admitted that you're dating yet?"

"I can say with full confidence that we are definitely not dating." Temperance's smile as she said this was involuntary.

Angela hesitated for a moment. "So, wait, is that like a code, or..."

"Morning, squints," Booth said as he strolled into Temperance's office holding a manila file folder. "Bones, I've got some stuff for you to sign."

"Don't call us squints," Temperance answered as she accepted the folder.

"Ah, come on, it's a term of endearment. Respect even. You're educated enough to be paid to squint at things."

"How is that a compliment?"

"A lot of people envy it, I bet. I would love to think that someone would pay me just to squint."

"I makes us sound like we have bad vision."

"Bad vision OR super intelligence," Booth said with a grin.

Temperance shook her head with a light laugh. Angela stared at the pair. "So, what is this?" she asked bluntly.

Booth turned. "What is what?"

"This! What is this?" she asked, gesturing to Booth and Temperance.

"Well, I don't know the fancy terms, Bones, maybe you could supply some of them here, but _I_ would refer to this as a 'conversation.'"

Temperance nodded. "I would have to concur."

Angela narrowed her eyes.

"See? Squinting!" Booth exclaimed.

"Screw it, I'm out of here," Angela said, turning toward the door. On her way out, she paused and turned back. "On a side note, I am happy you two have finally gotten together."

Booth smiled widely. "What makes you think we're together?"

Angela smiled back. "That fact that you didn't spit and sputter like you normally do when I mention the two of you dating." She winked at Booth, and left the room.

Booth turned back to Bones. "Huh...soo, I guess it's out now?"

"Maybe...not...I mean, Angela can be discrete if she..."

Temperance was cut off by the sound of Hodgins loudly exclaiming "well, it's about time!" from the hallway. Booth, hands in pockets, smile at Temperance and cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Yeah, okay, it's out." She smiled and turned her attention to folder Booth had handed her earlier, opening it. Inside, she found a stack of blank computer paper. "Um...what exactly am I supposed to be signing...?"

"Oh, that," Booth looked slightly sheepish, picking the folder back up. "That, um, was really just an excuse to come by and see if you were interested in doing something tonight." Bones believed she detected a hint of a blush in his cheeks.

"You drove all the way over here at 8:30 in the morning to ask me out? Why didn't you just call?"

_Because if I called, I wouldn't have gotten to see you_ he answered in his head. "Call!" he said aloud, as if remembering. "I knew there was some easier way to do this...see? This is why I need to spend more time with you, so I remember these things."

She couldn't help her smile. "I'm going to have to work late...can you meet me here? Around...7:30?"

"Absolutely," he answered. He looked at his watch. "I should probably be getting back to work, though, so...see you tonight."

They both paused, not quite sure what to do. Was he allowed to kiss her? She was at work, and he knew that dating people you worked with was frowned on, but still, he _wanted_ to kiss her, and suddenly that seemed like a really good reason to. He leaned in quickly and caught her lips for a millisecond. She was still when he pulled back. "Bye."

She smiled. "Bye."

* * *

At 8:47 that night, Booth was sprawled on his back in Temperance's office, his tie in his jacket pocket on the end of the couch near his feet, the button on his collar undone, and his eyes half closed as Temperance sat at her desk and typed. "Are we leaving _now_?"

"I'm almost done, really," she said as she continued to type.

"I was planning on us getting dinner. Like, an hour ago."

"I know, I know, we're going to leave in two minutes, I promise."

"Liar." His stomach growled. "If you cared about me at all, you would stop working and leave with me."

"I'm just about to finish."

"I'm about to starve to death."

"Physiologically improbable. You're body can live for days without food."

"Riveting."

"I told you I had to work late," she pointed out.

"You also told me to be here at 7:30."

"Ten more minutes."

"Ten?! You just said it would be two!"

"That was a figure of speech."

"Oh, I see. A figure of speech like 'be here at 7:30 and we'll leave' is a figure of speech."

"Precisely," she said with a smile.

"You're lucky I like you," he grumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.

She felt her heart flutter slightly at his words, but chose to ignore it.

Twenty minutes later, she clicked the save button. "Done! See? I told you it wouldn't take much..." she looked over at him, and noticed that he didn't move when she spoke. She stared at him for a few seconds, watching the rise and fall of his chest, and she smiled.

Standing, she crossed the room to where he was lying and sat on her knees beside the couch, her face near his, and attempted to rouse him gently. "Booth," she said, her voice soft. "Hey, Booth." She shook him slightly.

His eyes opened at met hers. "Hey," he said, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Hey," she answered quietly.

It was almost involuntary, a blissfully natural moment as she leaned into him and her eyes fell shut as their lips touched. She felt his hand softly on the back of her head, and she felt light.

She had no idea how long they stayed in that position, she only knew that eventually her knees were sore from leaning on the floor, and she pulled back. "Ready to go?"

He smiled. "It's about time." His fingers laced with hers when he stood.

She glanced at their joined hands and smiled. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

Reviews accepted


	7. In Which Booth Brings a Flower

Author's note: Go ahead and yell. I deserve it. To be honest, I kind of forgot that I was working on this, and then the other night my boyfriend and I were babysitting my adorable 4 month old niece, and just as I had taken a drink of water he said "you know, if we have kids..." and I promptly spit water across the living room. And at that moment, I thought, wow, I haven't written about Temperance Brennan in a while...so I haven't been watching the show, so this is no longer going to be in character...anyway, hope it's fun. I promise to try harder with the updates. Don't hurt me :-)

Oh, one other thing--the next chapter will probably be M. If anyone is opposed, let me know, and I'll figure something out, but fair warning. Anyway, here we go...

* * *

Booth woke up the next morning with a kink in his neck and a low, dull headache. His mouth felt dry, almost sticky, his eyelids felt thick, and when he tried to move he realized he had absolutely no feeling in his left arm. He also noticed that he probably didn't have feeling in his left arm because there was a girl laying on it. A very pretty girl, actually, with dark hair that was currently very messy and wavier than he was used to seeing it, and smudged eyeliner.

At this moment, Booth wanted to feel like a complete stud. He wanted to believe that he had sexed this gorgeous woman into a coma, and that he had so thoroughly satisfied her that the left side of his body was numb. However, a quick glance confirmed that fact that the shirt he had worn the day before was still almost completely buttoned, and this gorgeous woman was still wearing a fastened belt. So much for his stud fantasy.

He glanced around and remembered that he was on the couch in his apartment. After leaving her office so late, they'd realized that the restaurant Booth had planned to go to was no longer holding their table, and so they'd decided to pick up greasy Chinese food and some crap movie that neither one of them had heard of. He had been surprised when she agreed to the second part of this plan, however it was of little consequence since, after eating, they had both fallen dead asleep after the first ten minutes of the movie.

Booth sighed and shifted his weight, and was suddenly aware that his brain wasn't the only part of him that was waking up. Using his right arm to pull the dead weight of his left arm out from under Bones, he got up and headed to the bathroom.

Once inside, he closed the door and gulped down a large glass of water. The liquid felt strange in his stomach so soon after having woken up, but it soothed his tongue. As it did nothing for his head, he grabbed an asprin and took another long pull of water. Rubbing his hand over his face, he stepped back and turned on the shower, stripping off his clothes as the water got hot.

Once under the spray, he turned his head to let the water beat against his knotted neck muscles. He breathed deep, taking in the steam. And he started smiling. Yeah, okay, so their date last night was so rated G that a high schooler would be embarrassed to talk to his buddies about it, but he didn't care. After all, being with Bones wasn't all about sex, it was about _being_ with her. He liked being with her, liked being near her. He moved his face from the spray and a jet from the showerhead connect with his now very alert penis. Okay, so maybe he _really_ liked being near her.

He started thinking about other things, trying to calm himself, but the more he tried to think about anything other than Temperance, the more he thought about her. Her smell. Her smiled. Her laugh...God, that laugh...okay, he had a serious problem now. What was he, a teenager? He need to get a grip. He paused for a split second when he had that though, and then scolded himself. No, _that_ kind of a grip wasn't okay. She was sleeping in his living room for God's sake. _C'mon, man, think about something else...dead bodies...Bones looking at dead bodies...Bones in a lab coat...Bones in _nothing_ but a lab coat...Bones out of that lab coat...STOP!! Okay, okay, start again...dead bodies...Zach looking and dead bodies...and there we go._

Booth finished up his shower and dried off. Pulling on a robe, he headed back to the living room and immediately noticed that the couch was empty. In the place where Temperance had been, there now was a note:

_Booth:_

_Left to get ready for work. Talk to you later._

_B_

Well. That was brief. Booth dropped it onto the coffee table, ignoring the Chinese food containers in fluttered on top of when it fell. He found himself feeling unsettled. 'Talk to you later'? What was he supposed to take from that? It seemed kind of dismissive...should he be concerned about this? I mean, this was Bones, after all. She wasn't known for having great relationship skills. He should call her. But wait, if he called right now, it would seem weird and smothery. And what would he say? 'Oh, got your note, just wanted to confirm that we would in deed talk later'? Lame. Geez, this was stupid. This was crazy. Maybe she was pulling away from him. But why? They had been together for all of two seconds. Nothing had even happened. Why was she being so distant? Why was she...

Booth heard a beep, and he paused. He took a deep breath. He knew that smell...

Walking into the kitchen, he saw the steam coming up from the top of the coffeepot, the greenish-yellow light on, the dark brown liquid hot and waiting in the pot. She had made coffee for him. He reached into the cabinet for a mug with a grin; it was going to be a good day.

* * *

It had always been Temperance's opinion that relationships, for lack of a better term, sucked.

Dating was fine; good, even. Nice dinners, good wine, interesting conversation—all of these were positive things. Having someone to help you release tension after a hard week, spending time with another human being who you hadn't been at work with all day—yes, dating was good.

But _relationships_? Those were a whole other thing. Those were full of figuring the other person out, of putting on a good front, of being hyper aware of what was going on, as if there was going to be a pop quiz later. The key difference, of course, was that dates ended—you went out, maybe you had sex, but then it was over. Everyone went home. Life soldiers on. In a relationship, however, you had sex and they slept beside you. You had to get up in the morning and figure out who got the first shower, and the person who got the second shower was responsible for the coffee. It was sharing the paper. It was checking in during the day. It was...well, exhausting. And annoying. I mean, when you think about it, the beginnings of relationships were mainly set up to be failures—you were so busy pretending to like the same music that forging a real connection was damn near impossible.

Alright, so maybe this was cynical, but that didn't make it any less true. And because this was true, Temperance realized that Booth posed a particular kind of problem.

There was no question that Booth was a relationship guy; it wasn't like he tried to hide it. But Temperance wasn't a relationship girl.

"Morning, Sweetie." Angela walked into Temperance's office, her hands in her pockets.

"Morning," was Temperance's answer.

"Booth bring us anything interesting yet?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

"Oh. Well, I guess that means there's nothing, then. I mean, if he _had_ brought something, you'd be the first to know..."

Temperance shrugged. "I guess."

"Right, and since you stayed together last night and everything, if someone had called him in the middle of the night to look at a body or something, you would have known."

Temperance glanced up. "Can I help you with something, Ange?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "I thought I was being pretty clear. How are things with Booth?"

"Fine."

A pause stretched between them. Angela sighed. "Don't tell me your breaking up with him already."

Now it was Temperance's turn to sigh. Normally this was the sort of question that she was deflect, but this morning... "I didn't say that."

"...well?"

"I don't know. He's just...I don't know."

"He's what?"

"He's...in a relationship."

Angela stopped. "Wait. What? With who?"

"What do you mean 'with who'? With me."

Angela shook her head. "Okay, I am so confused right now..."

"He's in a relationship with me. But I'm just dating him. I feel like we aren't on the same wavelength. Like he's..."

"At your office door with flowers," Angela finished. Booth casually strolled in, a single purple daisy in his hand.

"Morning. Check it out, they were selling them from a cart beside my bagel place." He strolled over to Temperance's bookshelf and placed the flower in a skull, so that the petals filled the right eye socket. "Makes the whole death thing seem...more colorful."

Temperance looked over at Angela. "Well, I should...work. Yeah, work. I'll see you later, Temp." With that Angela headed back to her office.

"Booth, you didn't have to..."

Booth shrugged. "Just wanted to say thanks for the coffee. And to ask if you were free tonight. I thought we could give dinner another shot."

"I might have to work late..."

Booth smiled. "Okay, then we'll say 7. I'll be here at 8."

Temperance smiled involuntarily. "Booth..."

"C'mon, it'll be fun. We'll eat food. We'll talk. I hear it's the new, hot thing to do."

Temperance nodded. "Okay. Fine. 8 o'clock. And we'll...talk."

Booth smiled and leaned forward, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "See you then."

* * *

Let me know your thoughts


	8. In Which No One Gets Any Funny Ideas

Author's Note: Check out how fast this was updated! See, I told you I would try harder...okay, so please note that there is a rating change for this chapter. This is a pretty serious rating change, so if you are offended, please send me a message and I'll send you a T rated version of this chapter. If you don't care, then enjoy! Here we go...

* * *

By 6:30, Booth was staring at the clock, waiting to pick up Bones.

Bones...and ironic nickname, given the type of day he'd been having. Apparently his...excitement in the shower had been a precursor for the day to come. As he sat as his desk, he'd caught himself not once but twice daydreaming about her, with some...stiff results. He felt ridiculous. This was ridiculous. But the more he told himself to get himself together, the more he thought about her. And then he chastised himself, because just because they were going out tonight, that didn't mean that anything was going to happen tonight. And that was probably a good thing. After all, he'd been crazy about her for, God, he couldn't even remember how long. Taking it slow was a good option. Rushing things could ruin it, and he didn't wait this long just to wreck it before it even started. He wanted this to go somewhere. Plus, rushing into things meant that you didn't have the time to savor it, like eating a steak too fast—you didn't get to appreciate the full flavor. You needed to chew slowly, to take in the smell, to bath your tongue in the flavor...

He _really_ wanted the clock to move faster.

* * *

At ten minutes to eight, Temperance looked up and saw Booth walking toward her office. His tie was off, his top shirt button was undone, and his hair looked as though he'd been repeatedly running his hands through it.

"Hey," she said. "Hard day?"

"You don't know the half of it," he muttered.

Missing his veiled double meaning, she just nodded. "Yeah, I've been swamped to..."

He nodded. "So...did you want to head out, or...?"

She looked up at him with tired eyes. "Yeah, sure, we can go ahead and go to dinner...or..."

"Or?"

"Well, I mean, we're both tired and probably won't be good company, so..."

He smiled slightly. "I have leftovers. And a movie we haven't watched."

She smiled back. "I'll follow you to your place."

* * *

Temperance pulled into a parking spot beside Booth outside of his building. She twisted the keys in the ignition and pulled them out, dropping them into her bag in one clean, practiced motion. She climbed out of her car and walked over to Booth, who was also exiting his vehicle. The walked inside together.

Once inside, Temperance and Booth headed to the kitchen, where they began gathering the necessities for dinner. Food. Plates. Napkins. Forks.

Booth was filling two glasses with water, when Temperance spoke behind him. "So..."

He turned around and smiled. "So?"

She bit her lip, and taking a quick breath, decided to go right into it. "Why did you bring me a flower today?"

He paused. "What?"

"The flower. You brought a flower to my office this morning. I was wondering why."

"Uh...because it...seemed like a nice thing to do?" _She did know they were together, didn't she?_

"Yeah, it was nice, but..."

"But what?"

"But why did you do it? I mean, it would have nice to bring Angela a flower, but you didn't."

_Was she serious?_ "What's going on, Bones?"

She sighed. "I guess I just want to know...what do you think this is?"

"'This'?"

"This. Us. What do you think it is?"

"I think this is...what do _you_ think this is?" He was thoroughly confused now. And more than a little concerned.

"I think that we're dating."

_Thank God._ "So do I. So you see my confusion over the flower question..."

"No, I mean, I think we're dating. I think that you think that we're in a relationship."

"...I don't see the distinction."

"Exactly."

Booth sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He had figured that she would do something like this at some point—push him away. He just hadn't thought it would come so soon. "Look, Bones, I'm not sure what you're worried about here, but..."

"I'm worried that you're thinking we're in a relationship. That you have pictures in your head of what this is going to be, and I'm worried that you think this is...more serious than I think it is."

He tried it hide the stab he felt when she said 'more serious than I think it is.' "Listen, Bones, I don't think anything, okay? I think that I like spending time with you, and that I want to keep spending time with you. That's it. I have no agenda here, no 'pictures in my head.' Okay?"

"But you're a relationship guy."

"Have you been talking to Angela?" He was starting to feel frustrated.

"No. I just don't want us be on different wavelengths, because no matter what 'this' is or where it goes, we have to work together, and what we do is really important. And I just don't want..."

Realizing the root of her concern, he felt relief wash over him. He stepped closer to her. "I know that what we do is important. And we aren't going to mess that up. I promise."

"How can you promise that?"

He shrugged. "Easy. I know you, and I know me. And I know that neither one of us is going to let this" he gestured at the two of them "get in the way of helping people."

"But what if we..."

He cut her off, his lips on hers, before she could mention them breaking up. He didn't want to think about them breaking up. And he definitely didn't want _her_ thinking about them breaking up.

Her thoughts hiccupped when he kissed her, like a skip in a CD, and when they came back it was as if they were in a different part of the song. _This can work. He said so. And we won't let anything mess up work. We can do this..._

She felt the rational part of her brain wake back up and start talking again. _Bad idea, bad idea, he wants more than you do. He wants a wife and a family and you aren't cut out for those things..._but his hands were on the sides of her face, and his middle finger was resting just below her jaw bone behind her ear, and her hands were on his sides and he was warm, and his tongue was in her mouth and she felt dizzy...and now her brain was just chanting _trust him, trust him, for the love of God, just trust him._ Then he pulled back and looked at her, and her brain didn't need to tell her to trust him anymore.

Her eyes were darker. That was the first thing he noticed when he pulled back and looked at her. He had always loved her eyes; when you looked at them, they were just so..._clean_. That was the only word he could think of...clean, like water. They were eyes that could make you feel guilty when you had crossed a line, but eyes that make you feel strong when she smiled at you. And when you saw her, they always seemed just a shade lighter than your memory of them. But now they looked darker. Now they were pulling him in and he felt like if he could just sink into her, everything in the world would make sense again. Her back was against the wall and he moved closer to her, their bodies flush, stifling a groan that he felt within him when his erection pressed against her by pressing his mouth back against hers, by pressing himself against her breasts, by feeling her tongue back against his, where it belonged.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands threading into his hair. Kissing him was different than kissing anyone else. It wasn't a question of technique...she'd had some pretty amazing kisses before. But there was something else that was different with him...a familiarity, like they'd done this thousands of times before, and suddenly she understood how people could believe in reincarnation, because clearly they had done this before...

They held on to each other like this was going to be their last human contact, his hands under her shirt, her fingers struggling to unfasten his belt. At some point they both realized that they were stumbling through the living room, shoes and shirts trailing behind them, the clatter of a lamp and magazines hitting the floor when they bumped into an end table. None of this slowed them, their mouths fused.

Halfway to the bedroom Booth paused, his pants and boxers around his knees slowing forward progress. Well, that and the fact that Temperance had a firm grip on him, and he felt a surge of pleasure so strong that he was fairly certain that he was dying. After a full day of a fairly permanent hard-on, she was pulling his tongue into her mouth and faintly whimpering while both of her hands firmly stroked him, and all he could think was that if he didn't get inside of her now, he'd never survive.

And then they were on the floor, the bedroom forgotten. When her pants were finally gone, he stared straight into those nearly black eyes, those eyes that were pleading up at him, and using his hand to guide himself, he pushed into her.

They froze mid-stroke, their breaths ragged. "Fuck..." Booth panted, the word blending into Temperance's "oh God..." His hands were on either side of Temperance's shoulders, her knees were bent so that the flats of both of her feet were on the floor, her thighs at his sides, and angling himself forward, he pressed the rest of the way home.

He felt so good, so solid, so hot, that she wanted to cry. She felt him pull back, and jolt forward again, and she felt her back arching, her lungs feeling as though she couldn't get enough air.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her, seeing her eyes squeezed shut, her chest angled up at him, her long neck just begging for him...he pressed his tongue to her pulse point and felt her heart rate thudding. His hands were pushing her bra aside now, and his mouth moved to her breasts. Her scent was overwhelming, and in a sudden, paralyzing moment, he realized that he had been hard all day, and he wasn't going to last much longer.

He slowed his hips begging his body to calm down, but it refused to listen, jerking into her practically of it's own volition. Then he felt Temperance's hands on his head, pulling his face back to hers. "Har...God...harder...please, don't...please..." her eyes were closed, her breath was hard-edged and ragged, and his hips jolted at her words. The buildup took only seconds, and he felt himself on the brink, when he realized...

"Oh God, Temperance...don't have...condom..."

"Pill," she panted. And no sooner were these words out that they both fell over the edge.

They both lay, spent, on the living room floor. When his senses began to un-fog, and his heart rate began to return to something at least bordering normal, he heard her low chuckle.

He had been fairly certain that they had just experienced something approaching mystical. But hear a woman laughing after sex? Not generally a great sign...

"What?" he said, smiling to hopefully mask his concern.

"I don't think we're having dinner now..."

He looked over and saw the Chinese leftovers in the floor. Apparently they had knocked them off the table at some point. He had to laugh then, too, taking in the sight of his living room, now down one lamp, with a woman's shirt somehow knotted around his left shoe lying under cold pork fried rice.

He turned to look at her. She was still smiling. "Thanks for the flower." She said.

He felt her smile blossom through him, like warmth. "Whoa, hold on, I don't want you reading too much into that flower. I mean, don't get any funny ideas about what this" he motioned between the two of them "is."

She grinned and playfully pushed on his chest. "Shut up."

Not bothering to get up off the floor, he reached over and gathered her into his arms, her head in the crook of his arm. He leaned into her hair and breathed in her scent. "Okay," he answered.

* * *

Go for it


	9. In Which Booth is Made Uncomfortable

Author's Note: This chapter continues my rambling storytelling tone. Just want to say thanks to everyone who is reviewing, and to everyone who is reading and indulging my writing, as, thanks to school, this is being done largely as a distraction for me. Sorry if this is out of character--for those used to my stories, you know that I pretty much just use the characters loosely. Oh, also, the chapter names became officially repugnant to me, so I have changed them all. So...have fun with that. Okay, not proofread, but have a good time anyway. Here we go...

* * *

By the time the sun came up the next morning, Booth and Brennan were collapsed in a heap in the middle of Booth's bed. Tangled in the sheets, Brennan was wrapped around Booth, her head in the crook of his arm. Booth was awake, his brain still groggy. A cup of coffee would work wonders for him right now.

The sun was creeping up through the sky, and was now shining directly into his eyes—closing the blinds hadn't been on his radar the night before, and now he regretted it. With a sigh, he tried to carefully pry himself away from Temperance. If he was awake, he might as well get up.

His motion roused her slightly, and in a groggy, heavy voice, he heard her mumble, "hmm...Booth?"

Standing now, he smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Morning."

"What time is it?"

He glanced at the clock. "Almost 7."

"I need to get ready for work," she mumbled, and he smiled as he noticed that she made no move to get up.

He padded to the kitchen and started the coffee, and then headed to the bathroom where he took a quick shower. When he got out, he heard her in the kitchen.

"Hey," she said, putting her half empty coffee mug on the counter. "I'm going to head home to change."

"Okay," he said, walking over to her.

"Talk to you later?" she smiled as she said it, as he approached.

"Sure," he answered, sliding his arms around her waist. He leaned down and gave her lazy, lingering kiss.

When he pulled back, he looked down at her, her eyes still half closed. "We could skip work today..."

She smiled. "Bad influence," she said back. She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss and stepped away, heading toward the door.

"What if we just skipped the morning?"

"Goodbye, Booth."

"Hour late?"

She shook her head, and he thought he heard her laugh as she walked out the door.

He smiled and picked up her unfinished coffee, taking a drag. Then he nearly choked when the taste hit him, and he realized that she had added milk and no sugar. Putting milk in your coffee was bad enough, but no sugar? He shook his head...that was down right criminal.

* * *

By 10am, Booth was sitting at his desk and yawning. The coffee from the morning hadn't put much more than a slight dent into his energy deficit, and he was starting to suspect that the only acceptable cure would be sleep. Between the...festivities of the night before and sleeping sitting up on the couch the night before, he was starting to feel run down. This realization was less than appealing—he remembered his younger days when it was actually abnormal to have a regular sleeping schedule. He rolled his head to try to loosen his neck, to improve the blood flow to his brain. Channeling younger Booth, he turned his focus back to the paper on his desk.

Expense reports...what a boring part of work. Scribbling numbers into the boxes, his mind began to wander again. Waking up with Bones this morning had been...fantastic. Comfortable, like she belonged there.

He loved the way she smelled. Clean, fresh, natural...in the past, women he'd been with had smelled flowery, or overly perfumed, or...something...he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But Bones was different. She smelled like the air on a cool fall day—bright, sunny, clean, fresh, and full of possibility. The kind of smell that made your blood move. The smell that made your senses just a little sharper, made your reflexes just a little quicker, made your laugh come just a little easier.

He closed his eyes and smiled. He remembered how her leg was curled around him this morning, how the back of her knee bent around his leg. How her hand was on stomach, her fingers bent a little bit so the tips of her fingers rested on him...he could feel her fingernails against him when he inhaled. As his brain continued to drift, he became vaguely aware that his head was inclining forward...

He jerked up suddenly, his brain coming back into the moment. He sighed. Between his distraction yesterday and his energy level today, Temperance Brennan was having an adverse effect on his work life.

* * *

By 6:30 that night, Brennan was straightening her desk and preparing to leave for the day. She shut down her computer, turned off the light, and was pulling her office door shut when she felt her cell phone vibrating. She pulled it out and saw the name 'Booth' displayed on the screen.

She clicked the button to answer the call. "Brennan," she said.

"Hey, Bones." His voice was a deep, a low rumble, and she felt her chest flutter.

"Hey, Booth."

"How was your day?"

"I was invited to go on two week dig in Indonesia," she answered, fishing through her purse for her keys.

"Wow, that's...good?"

She smiled. "I had to turn it down. It conflicts with a conference that I have to go to."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What conference?"

"Anthropological. I'm presenting a paper."

"On what?"

She paused. "You really want me to tell you?"

"Of course I do...why wouldn't I want you to tell me?"

"Well, just because...forensic anthropology isn't really your thing. You're more interested in things like...sports. You aren't interested in science. Plus, usually when I tell you about anthropology, you have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm given to think that that would make you feel uncomfortable."

He paused. "So, just to be sure I'm clear on this...you aren't going to tell me about the paper you wrote because I'm not smart enough to understand it?"

Temperance wasn't great at reading social situations, but even she caught the danger in this line of questioning. "I'm just saying that forensic anthropology is not a field that you are particularly well versed in. And, in my defense, apart from when we are working on a case together, you have never been that interested in forensic anthropology before."

"Well, maybe I wasn't before, but it's different now."

"Why is it different now?"

"Because we...um..."

"Had sex?"

"No, I mean..."

"Booth, just because we had sex, that doesn't mean your interests are suddenly going to change. Sex has nothing to do with your knowledge of science. Gaining a sudden interest in academics would be more likely to begin because of a surge of blood to your brain. Sex begins with a surge blood to your..."

"Bones!"

"...penis."

"I'm not...I just..." He sighed. "What else did you do today?"

"I don't understand why you are so uncomfortable talking about sex. It's a normal human function."

"Because it's...private, okay?"

"Which, I concede, could be a valid argument."

"Thank you."

"Except that the sex was with me, which means that talking about it with me is not making it any more public than the act itself."

"Bones..."

"I mean, if we were talking about you and Rebecca, or any other of your past partners, or if we were talking about me with Sully or any of my past lovers..."

"I had a turkey sandwich for lunch. Let's talk about that."

"But I see no breach of privacy by talking about us having sex with each other."

"Great. Well, now that that's settled..."

"So, you're fine if we talk about our sex?"

"Look, I was just calling to say hi, to see how your day went...how did we get into this conversation?"

"I just think it's strange that you're so uncomfortable with it."

"I just wasn't raised in a family that was very open about it, okay? And I personally think that talking about it as if it were...I don't know, some random fact about your day, degrades it."

"Okay."

"Okay. Now, can we move on?"

"Fine. How was work?"

"It was good. Spent a lot of time cleaning up my desk, trying to get things organized. Oh, this guy, Dave, who works down the hall, told me something funny..."

"Is it because you were raised Catholic?"

"What?"

"Is that why you're so repressed about sexuality?"

"Good talk, Bones. Have a good night. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Would you be more comfortable if I didn't use the word 'sex'? What about 'fucking'? Although most people agree that that's decidedly more vulgar...there is always the generic 'sleeping together,' however since the act itself does not involve sleeping, that term has never made a great deal of sense to me, at least not used as a direct reference for the act itself..."

"Bye." And at that, Booth hung up the phone.

* * *

Your thoughts here


	10. In Which the Guy Hug Quandary is Faced

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, and thanks again to everyone who is indulging my rambling little story. I've gotten busy lately, with finals and papers and such, and as a result this chapter is pretty much a fluffy bit of nothing. Hey, our lives are too serious, right? Hope this makes your day a little lighter. Here we go...

* * *

Life was good for Seeley Booth. He had a good job, a nice apartment, and a healthy son. And he also happened to be currently dating the girl of his dreams. Yes, all in all, Booth was a lucky man—a very lucky man; the type of man that other men should envy. And Booth was happy. Mostly. There was only one minor hitch.

Booth was exhausted. Not just the 'I didn't get a great night sleep last night' kind of exhausted, and not even the 'my neighbor's dog/cat/child decided to spend the night barking/meowing/getting drunk and then driving their parent's car into my living room' kind of exhausted, but rather the 'I haven't slept in two weeks and now I'm pretty sure I can see purple spots when I blink' kind of exhausted. He was wiped.

And, not to place blame or anything, but this was entirely Bones' fault.

He wished he could claim that this exhaustion was coming from sexing his girlfriend in to a virtual coma all night every night, but sadly, the truth was much less macho. The truth was, he had learned something about Bones in the two weeks since their first night together on the floor of his apartment. He had learned that Bones, despite all her relationship-phobia, despite her cool demeanor, despite her standoffishness in social situations, was a cuddler.

It wasn't that Booth was opposed to cuddling. Hell, there were worse things than being tangled up in bed with sexy naked woman. But despite what TV shows portrayed, despite the scenes in all those sappy romantic movies, the truth was that sleeping was, in reality, a solitary activity. Really, when you thought about it, this was one act that really couldn't be a team effort. And when Booth went to sleep, he needed space. He needed to be able to move around a little bit—a fact that didn't comport with having someone wrapped around you. Having someone leaning on you meant that when you rolled over or changed positions, they necessarily had to change positions too. And, of course, it also meant that when they moved, you woke up and moved, too.

And really, Booth could live with this. He could. Maybe it wasn't ideal, but he'd dated girls who were cuddlers before, and it was fine. You got used to it; eventually, you learned to change positions in your sleep. Whatever, no big deal; but with Bones, that wasn't the whole problem.

The problem with Bones when she was asleep was a lot like the problems he used to have with Bones when she was awake. If he were to name it, he would call it "The Guy Hug Quandary."

Here's how it worked: Bones was a strong woman, there was no question; if put under the right conditions, she could drop most guys like a bag of dirt. She was also fiercely independent and self-sufficient. Not bad qualities, really, but add it together with just enough childhood emotional damage, and the result was that Bones had a hard time opening up to people, had a hard time being vulnerable. He had known this about her for a long time, but still, there were times when, no matter how strong you were or tried to be, vulnerability came out. There were times when you needed people. That's where the guy hugs had started—Booth trying to be there for her, trying to comfort her in any way that she would let him.

And the guy hugs worked, at least for a little bit, but, inevitably, they would come back around to the same thing: distance, Bones pushing him away. He knew this was her pattern, and he lived with it, because it was just..._her_. And that was fine; if that's what she needed from him, that's what he would give her. But now they were together, and that carried with it a new type of vulnerability. He had a fleeting wonder at the beginning how she would compensate for her need for distance, how her pushing him away would translate.

And now, he was figuring some of that out—the way it translated was that, in her sleep, she would seek him out. She would curl up around him, unconsciously let him hold her—and then kick the crap out of him.

Yes, Temperance Brennan kicked in her sleep. Hard. And, frankly...it hurt.

There was really nothing that could wake you up in the middle of the night like someone nailing you in the shin with their heel. Well, except maybe when someone nailed you in the ribcage with a knee...that was also a rough way to wake up. It had gotten to the point that in the morning, Booth was limping to the shower, delirious from lack of sleep, and looking for welts. Really, how she wasn't leaving marks was beyond him.

And, of course, this is where the quandary came in, because he needed to tell her to stop. He needed to tell her that she needed to stay on her side of the bed, or explain why he was suddenly going to start sleeping on the couch or wearing hockey pads to bed. But this was Bones...and he knew this conversation could go bad quickly. There was little that could make a person who already feels the need to push others away retreat faster than telling them that you need to push _them _away, but he didn't really have much of a choice here...he had to do something.

It was a Friday night, and Booth and Bones were in Bones' bed, both slightly out of breath, both feeling drowsy. Well, Bones was feeling drowsy; Booth was practically asleep already.

"I had a bad day," Bones said.

Booth kept her close, his hand tracing light circles on her back. "Yeah? What happened?"

"Just a long day. I think Angela and Hodgins had a fight last night, because they were completely out of sync today. Cam was upset, something about funding. Zach went to talk to her about something and accidently stabbed his hand with a scalpel."

Booth laughed, almost involuntarily. "How do you accidently stab yourself?"

Bones shrugged. "Who knows? Anyway, it was just a mess today. I feel like I didn't get anything done."

He smiled and gave her a light squeeze. "You always feel like you don't get enough done."

She didn't say anything, but he thought he felt her smile against his chest. They laid still for a moment more, and he felt her breathing starting to change, starting to get deeper.

_Now or never..._he cleared his throat. "Hey, uh, Bones?"

She roused a bit. "Hmm?"

"I, uh...I need to use the bathroom." _God, you're smooth._ He eased himself out of bed.

He walked into her bathroom, stood over the sink, and looked in the mirror. Her bathroom was very...her. Warm earth tones. Sensual, but not overly feminine; he knew there were candles under the sink. Attention to detail; there were thick towels sitting on a rack on the wall. Organized.

He splashed some water on his face, and then cupped his hands to take a drink, and waited another minute or two before heading back.

He walked back into her room and saw her laying under the covers on her side, her back to him. Yes! He gently eased in the other side.

Ahh...perfect. With his back turned toward her, he slightly curled his knees toward his chest, and crooked one arm under his pillow, beneath his head. With a deep breath, his eyes fell shut.

And 45 minutes later, he woke up. Freezing. _What the_...and then he realized what had happened. Apparently when she wasn't kicking him, she stole the covers. Perfect.

He hesitated...if he tried to steal the covers back, he would wake her up, and she would end up cuddling him again, which would lead to her kicking him. He couldn't do that another night. On the other hand, he couldn't go to sleep when he was this cold...and that's when his mind drifted back to the bathroom. The towels on the rack...

He slipped out of bed and grabbed two. She was still on her side when returned, so gently eased back in draped the towels over him, and fell back asleep.

* * *

Booth woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, human again. It was incredible what a good night's sleep could do for you. He stretched.

The room was fairly bright; the curtains had been closed, but the sun still brightened the room. Reaching for his tee shirt on the floor beside him, Booth pulled it over his head and padded out toward Bones' kitchen.

She was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal, reading the paper. "Mornin' Bones," he said, opening the fridge to retrieve the orange juice to fill the glass she had left out for him. He took a swallow.

"Why were you sleeping under bath towels this morning?"

Booth paused mid-swig. "Hmm?"

"You were using a towel as a blanket when I got up."

"Oh, yeah, I just...got cold."

He expected her to push this further, and was surprised when she nodded and turned her attention back to the paper. _Well, that had been easy...too easy_. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Alright..."

He looked at her. "'Alright'?"

"Yeah."

"Not great?"

"I've slept better."

"Anything wrong?"

She sighed. "Alright, I didn't know how to say this but..." she looked at him. "You snore."

He coughed on his juice. "What?"

"You snore."

"I do not!"

"You do. Loudly."

He felt his brain sputtering. "I do not snore."

"Look, I don't want to make an issue out of this or anything, it just...makes it hard to sleep sometimes, that's all."

"I don't believe this..." She shrugged. "I know for a fact I haven't been snoring."

She looked at him. "How could you possibly know that for a fact? You're asleep when it happens."

He put his hands on his hips. "I know I'm not snoring because I know I'm not _sleeping_."

"What?"

"I haven't been sleeping, alright? You haven't let me get any sleep." She paused, staring at him, so he kept going. "You don't give me my space when you sleep, and I need my space, alright? I need to be able to move a little bit. And, you know, I'd fine with cuddling, I mean, I can live with it..."

"You 'can live with it'?" She was shocked. Was he seriously complaining about sleeping with a naked woman next to him?

"Yeah, but sometimes it's tough to sleep, you know?"

"Yeah, I know! I know it's tough to sleep sometimes. Sometimes like _last _night. When I was awake _all night._ While you snored so loud that the bed vibrated!"

Had he not been in the middle of this moment, had he had time to reflect, he would have laughed at the fact that they were having their first spat, and that it was over something this stupid. It was funny, really...but he _was_ in the middle of this moment, so for now he missed the humor. "I can't believe you are complaining about sleeping with _me_!"

Brennan snorted. "Well, that's egotistical..."

"After what I've been putting up with..."

"'Putting up with'? So now you're just 'putting up' with me?"

"That's not what I meant, but...well, with your sleeping habits, yeah!"

"I don't believe this..."

"Believe it, Baby! You can be a pain in the ass to sleep with, okay? There—I said it. But I deal with it, because I like having you in bed next to me when I wake up!"

"I'm a pain in the ass? Really? Booth, you snore so much that I actually kick you at night just to get you to shut up!"

He paused. "Wait. What?"

She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But it gets frustrating...you're keeping me awake, and you know how it is...when you're that tired, you don't always act rationally..."

"You kick me...on purpose?"

"I'm not proud of it, but I have to do something to get you to be quiet..."

And then, he couldn't help it. He started laughing. "You kick me on purpose!"

"Um...Booth?"

He kept laughing as he walked over to where she was sitting. Putting his hands on either side of her face, he leaned down and kissed her.

When he pulled back, she was smiling. "What was that?"

He grinned back. "I just...I just like you. I like waking up with you."

She smiled. "Okay..."

"I'm sorry about the snoring."

"I'm sorry about the kicking."

He kissed her again. "You know what? I just realized that I don't care."

* * *

Let me know what you think


	11. In Which Plans are Disrupted

Too long without an update, blah blah. Sorry for typos, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Here you go...

* * *

At 4:00 on a Thursday afternoon, Booth dialed the number to Bones' office. The phone rang three times in his ear.

"Brennan." Her voice was clipped and efficient, as if he'd caught her in the middle of a task, and she hadn't bothered to see who was calling before she answered the phone.

"Vietnamese food in a restaurant that neither one of us has been to before. Martinis in a piano bar until we're both more than a little buzzed. My hand casually on your thigh in the cab on the way to your apartment, because I'm a gentleman. Then sex as soon as we get in your door, because you're gorgeous and it's too long of a walk to your bedroom." He almost blushed as he said it, keeping his voice low. He didn't normally talk like this, but when you had a girlfriend who was...well, Temperance Brennan...

He heard the smile in her voice. "Sounds nice..."

He smiled as well. "Pick you up in two hours?"

"Booth..."

"Uh oh. I'm not going to like this."

"I've spent all day bent over several small men..."

"Dirty," he interjected.

"...from a mass grave in Malaysia," she continued, seeming to not notice his comment. "I still have remains to catalogue, and paperwork to finish, and..."

"Bones, you've worked late all week. You need a break."

"I just don't have time tonight."

"But...we haven't gotten to see each other all week."

"I know..."

"And I, you know...would like to see you."

She signed distractedly. "I know, but tonight just isn't a good night."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah...alright. I guess I'll be fine on my own tonight."

"Dirty."

He smiled.

"Why don't we go out tomorrow night?"

He hesitated. "Well, actually...tomorrow isn't such a great night for me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back slightly in this chair. "It's just...well, I have Parker this weekend."

"Oh, well...that's good."

"Yeah, yeah it is. So, I mean, I was just going to spend a little time with him."

"Okay, that sounds good. So why don't we make plans for Monday?"

Booth paused for a second. "Okay...so, um, how's your day going?"

He heard a smile in her voice. "I'm good, Booth. Listen, I don't want to be rude, but I wasn't really kidding when I said I had a lot of work to do..."

"Oh, uh, yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later, then."

"Sure...hey, Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinking, since we aren't going to get to spend much time together this weekend..."

He smiled. "Uh oh, I think I'm going to like this..."

"Well, if you wanted to come by after I leave work, that would be alright with me."

"Temperance Brennan, am I a booty call?"

"I don't know what that means. I was just suggesting that you come over later so we can have sex."

He laughed. A few years ago that statement would have flustered him, but now he heard the subtle playfulness in her voice.

"I would be honored."

"Okay, I'll call you when I leave."

* * *

At 10:15, as Booth was dozing off in front of the TV, his cell phone rang. He flipped it open and was greeted by Bones' exhausted voice.

"You sound dead," he commented.

She sighed. "I am a little bit. So, did you...want to come over?"

He smiled. "Of course I do. But...somehow I get the feeling tonight might not be the best night for you."

"Maybe not..."

"So, I'll see you on Monday. No big deal."

"Really?"

He smiled again. "Really. Get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay," she said. He could hear her poorly hidden yawn. "Goodnight.

* * *

Though the pair had good intentions, Monday went in much the same way as Thursday, and their plans were canceled. They rescheduled for Tuesday, but, once again, they found themselves unable to connect. Booth tried not to feel frustrated; this happened to all couples. There were always times when it was hard to connect. But still, he couldn't help feeling a nagging irritation. He hated to say it, but sometimes...sometimes he wondered how hard she tried to see him. After all, dead people didn't get any deader if you didn't get to them right away...maybe that was crass, but it was true. Surely she could get off work if she really wanted to...but he tried to push this thought out of his mind. He asked her to come by on Wednesday. Bones had a meeting that night, but she assured Booth that as soon it was over she would come to his apartment and they would finally get some time together.

Booth was relieved. Time together would make all of this so much better. He got off work a half hour early so he could go by the store, and when he got home he set about preparing dinner. He wasn't a great cook, but he wasn't terrible either. Most of his culinary skills were geared toward foods he knew he could get Parker to eat. Calling on these skills, he decided to keep dinner simple and made spaghetti. By 7, everything was ready except for the pasta, which he figured he would make when Temperance got there.

And, at 7:30, Temperance had still not arrived.

At 8, he was feeling almost angry. Really? After a week of not being together, she couldn't manage to get out of her meeting a little early? Seriously?

At 8:15 there was a knock on his door. He got up and opened it, seeing Temperance standing in the doorway.

"Glad you could make it," he said, the irritation showing in his voice.

"I'm sorry, the meeting just ran late...people didn't get there on time, and then there was this whole thing where they couldn't get the Power Point to work, and...I'm really sorry."

He shrugged. "Fine, whatever." He knew he was being childish; this wasn't really his fault. Still, he couldn't help feeling like he was somewhat justified. And as much as he hated himself for feeling it...he wanted to punish her a little bit.

Temperance, however, was not in the mood to be punished. Her day had sucked. Completely and totally. The meeting had been a disaster. Zach had screwed up, and she had spent half her day backtracking his work, which meant that she was now behind on the work she had tried so desperately to catch up on in the last few days. She had left her wallet at home by mistake, and as a result she hadn't eaten lunch. She had gotten a paper cut. All in all, a textbook rotten day. So going to Booth's and having him be in a bad mood, even if it was somewhat deserved...she was past the point where she could humor him.

She sighed loudly. "Listen, if you're mad at me, I can just go."

He paused, his ire rising. "What?"

"You're clearly not in the mood for this, and I'm not in a good mood, so maybe we should just do this another night."

"When? _What_ other night, Bones?"

"I don't know. Another night. Whenever." She was tired, and not in the mood to deal with this.

"Well, I made dinner for us _tonight_, Bones! I got wine, I got candles..." he indicated to the set table behind him. "And now you're just not bothering to show up. Again."

"I can't help when I have to work, Booth. You know that. It's not like I did this on purpose."

"You _always_ have to work."

"I'm doing my best here! I'm sorry that's hard for you, but that's how it is."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to spend a little time with you!"

Temperance threw her hands up in frustration, sighing loudly. "What do you want from me here, Booth? An apology?"

"Yeah, that would be nice! Maybe a little acknowledgement that you blew me off for the _third time_ _in a week_!"

"I _did _apologize, Booth! And, anyway, I _told_ you that I probably wouldn't be done at work until late tonight! You knew that! It's not my fault you planned all this! And you didn't tell me that you were making dinner, or any of this! How was I supposed to know? You make it sound like I intentionally broke plans with you!"

"Well that's what it feels like, Bones! I haven't had dinner with you in six days, it feels like I don't even have a girlfriend!"

"Oh, so I should drop my work and rush over here so you can remember that you're dating someone?"

"That's not what I said!" He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Fine. Then what are you saying, Booth?"

"I'm saying we haven't seen each other, and you don't seem to care!"

"Of course I care!"

"Doesn't seem like it."

"Well, I don't know what else you want me to do," she said, exasperated.

"_Trying _would be nice."

"I am trying!"

"You didn't even get here until almost 8:30!"

"So?"

"'So?' _So_, didn't it occur to you that maybe I'd like to see you? Christ, Bones, sometimes I think that the only way I'll get to spend time alone with you is if I die and you examine my body!"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't _you_ cancel dinner last weekend because you had Parker?"

"That was different, that was…"

"Different how? Different because it was you? I get that you have responsibilities, Booth, but I care about my responsibilities just as much as you care about yours, and they are just as important."

He rested his hands on his hips, and in an angry calm voice replied, "I didn't say they weren't."

They stood for a moment, looking at one another. Temperance finally broke the silence. "I'm going home." She turned toward the door and Booth made no move to stop her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow or something."

"Yeah, fine," he answered.

She gave a quick single nod and walked out, closing the door behind her. Booth stood still for a moment after she left, staring at the door, before he began gathering their still clean plates and putting them on the kitchen counter.

* * *

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